


Open Heart, Open Container

by Alpine_strawberry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpine_strawberry/pseuds/Alpine_strawberry
Summary: Louis had been 18 when they moved in together. He bit back a smile now, remembering the day they arrived at Princess Park and the giddy look on Harry’s face as he turned to Louis and leapt into his arms in the hallway.Now, Harry’s smile was frozen on the cover of the magazine, his eyes piercing Louis’ from the shelf in the corner shop. They were the same green eyes Louis had first seen 10 years ago, yet the man on the magazine seemed a stranger to him.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 31
Kudos: 116





	1. Scott Street

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Phoebe Bridgers’ beautiful ‘Scott Street,’ which inspired this. 
> 
> Listen along! Spotify playlist available here:   
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5G2hP2rrZTByJn2J7AWLfA?si=t2DInoDJS_mvWNoNKhSGeQ

_Do you feel ashamed_   
_When you hear my name?  
  
_

_..._

  
LONDON, 2020

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._ Louis tossed and turned. _Tick. Tick_. The clock seemed louder with every passing second, and Clifford’s ragged breathing from the foot of the bed sounded heavier and heavier. Louis squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to will himself to sleep, but the noises reached a crescendo in his head and he threw his duvet off. It was 3am, and outside the window the London streets were quiet, the rest of the world at rest. Louis gave up on joining them, swearing quietly to himself and throwing on the pair of joggers that lay discarded on his bedroom floor. Padding downstairs, he took in the large townhouse he had occupied for almost 4 years now. In the pale moonlight it seemed cavernous and unwelcoming, and he shivered.

...

When Clifford wandered downstairs an hour later Louis was passed out on the sofa, a cold cup of tea and two cigarette butts accompanying him, and a video game bathing the room in cold light.

LOS ANGELES, 7pm

Harry exhaled one last time, blinking open his eyes and taking in the watercolour that was the sunset over the hills of LA. He untangled his legs from Lotus position and rolled up his yoga mat before sitting at the edge of his pool, dipping his toes into the reflection of the darkening sky. Filming had been tough for him, in some ways more gruelling than Dunkirk because of his starring role, yet he was sad to have so little time left with the cast.  
As he rooted through his fridge for the leftover salad from yesterday, Harry cast his mind to London, where he would soon fly back. It felt most like home to him, less alienating than LA, and full of friends and family. However, a part of Harry knew that London would always remind him of one person in particular. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, thoughts of Princess Park and Primrose Hill, thoughts of countless firsts, shared smiles, and shared tears.

LONDON, 12pm

Louis had been 18 when they moved in together. He bit back a smile now, remembering the day they arrived at Princess Park and the giddy look on Harry’s face as he turned to Louis and leapt into his arms in the hallway.

Now, Harry’s smile was frozen on the cover of the magazine, his eyes piercing Louis’ from the shelf in the corner shop. They were the same green eyes Louis had first seen 10 years ago, yet the man on the magazine seemed a stranger to him. Harry’s features had sharpened, and stubble now coloured his jaw. He seemed impossibly handsome, and Louis ripped his gaze away, turning to the cashier and clearing his throat.

‘Alright lad, just a pack of fags please.’

Louis left the shop and immediately tore open the packet, inhaling the nicotine and immediately feeling calmer. This was why he avoided thinking about Harry, a task that had proven impossible the past year since his album came out. Louis briefly wondered if Harry had the same issue, but scoffed. At least they weren’t playing Louis’ album in every bloody shop on the planet. Louis adjusted his hat and looked around, wary of being recognised, before beginning his short walk back home.

LOS ANGELES, 4am

As Harry’s alarm beeped he shot out of bed, excited and nervous for his last day on set. Most actors he knew complained about the early call times, but he had always been an early bird. His phone rang from across the room, and a flicker of excitement went through him before he remembered it was his PA ensuring he was up.

‘Morning,’ He yawned.

‘Hi Harry, just your early morning call!,’ her voice rang out through the speaker. ‘The car will be outside in 20 minutes.’

...

In the car, Harry stared out of the window at the lights of LA. The city seemed like it never slept, fluorescent lights scattered across the great sprawl. They seemed disjointed and distant, nothing like the glamourous sparkle he once envisioned when he thought of Hollywood. He thought back to Holmes Chapel, which at night had seemed enrobed in a velvet darkness, the stars always visible in the country air, with occasional street lamps casting a warm yellow glow.

A helicopter loudly passed over them, effectively cutting off Harry’s train of thought, and he focused instead on the mindless chatter of his driver’s favourite radio station. Only one more day and he would be heading home.


	2. Golden Slumbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked so peaceful, his face free of all the worries that so often seemed etched into it, and the thought almost made Harry choke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is my favourite Beatles song! Also shout out to ‘Nobody Needs to Know’ from the Last Five Years for inspiring the beginning section.

_Sleep pretty darling, do not cry_  
_And I will sing a lullaby_

...

  
LONDON, 2014

Louis stirred in his sleep, pushing his nose further into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry looked down at the man he loved, warm and soft in his arms. He traced gentle patterns down Louis’ back with the tip of his fingers, lulling him back into his slumber. Harry pulled him impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of warm skin pressed together. If Louis was awake he would no doubt make fun of Harry’s serial-killer stare, but he took the opportunity to drink in the features he adored: the sharp slope of Louis’ cheekbones and the slight crook of his nose. He looked so peaceful, his face free of all the worries that so often seemed etched into it, and the thought almost made Harry choke up.

In the cushy sanctuary of Harry’s bed, hidden under the cover of the blue night, it would be so easy to forget everything and get lost in one another. But Harry increasingly felt the outside world closing in on them. It had already invaded them, taking the form of a small worry line between Louis’ eyebrows that even sleep couldn’t conceal. Little by little, their armour was being chipped away, their battalions torn down. Harry clutched Louis closer still, tangling his fingers in his hair. Louis snuffled in response, turning his head away from Harry’s neck.

Harry was convinced he could lie there for hours watching Louis. He stirred again in his sleep, seeming restless. Harry wanted nothing more than to know what he was dreaming of, what he was thinking about. He wanted to put his ear up to Louis’, to try and hear exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to climb out of bed and seal off his room so no one else could ever get in, so no phone calls could ever reach them. He settled instead for placing a gentle kiss on Louis’ eyelid, and closed his own eyes to try and get some sleep before the inevitable harsh intrusion of morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it’s clearer where I am taking this fic now! It’s my first, so I would absolutely love to hear any comments/kind critiques!


	3. Cellophane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was thinking about Harry again. Of course he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by ‘Cellophane’ by FKA Twigs! Would recommend if you also like to lie on the floor and feel sad!

_Didn't I do it for you?  
Why don't I do it for you?  
Why won't you do it for me?  
When all I do is for you?_

...  
  


LONDON, 2020

The grass was already dewy beneath Louis, brushing against his exposed skin and dampening his clothes. The early hours of the morning had again found him wide awake, and he was lying in his garden. If Louis’ life was more poetic, he would be gazing up at the Milky Way, but instead the sky had a hazy orange tint, coloured by the London streetlights. Louis exhaled, smoke slipping from his lips, intertwined with the trails of condensation as his breath hit the cold air. He remembered his sisters shrieks as they ran from him when he would chase them on crisp winter mornings, pretending he was a dragon. Everything seemed eerily quiet now, only the occasional car passing nearby and the sound of Louis’ own breath filling his ears.

He was thinking about Harry again. Of course he was. As much as he didn’t talk about Harry, tried to push him from his mind in the day, he ended up back here almost every night. Louis snorted, thinking of the ridiculously expensive bed waiting for him upstairs while he lay on the cold ground. Perhaps he was inflicting some sort of self-punishment, like those religious fuckers who wore hair vests under their clothes. He wondered what Harry was doing at that moment. Whether he was asleep, whether he was with someone, whether he was thinking of Louis.

It made him angry sometimes. When they were together, he and Harry had hated the press, the fame, the lack of privacy. It had been the main reason they split up, after all. But now it was like Louis couldn’t escape Harry. He was plastered on every bloody magazine, every poster on the tube, every bus and taxi. His music seemed to haunt Louis, his lyrics bruising him from every radio station, every passing car, every shop and cafe. It didn’t make sense to Louis, how Harry could have embraced the fame even more after they broke up, after the band. Did that mean that Louis had been the problem all along? Had he been holding Harry back? Had Harry known that all along?

Louis took the final drag from his cigarette and stumped it out in the grass next to him. The first of the daylight was beginning to peek through the distant tree line, casting a warm pinkish glow that Louis did not want to bask in. He’d never been a sunrise bloke. That had always been Harry’s territory. Now he reatreated back into his house, feeling mildly pissed off but mostly just sad.


	4. The Lakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis laughed again. He hadn’t felt this free in a long time, just the two of them and the open road. They finally had a few days off, and instead of hiding in their London home they had decided to escape to the country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘the Lakes’ and Paul McCartney’s ‘Heart of the Country.’ Never thought I’d be recommending Taylor Swift but here we are!

_Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?_   
_I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones_   
_These hunters with cell phones_

_Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die_   
_I don't belong and, my beloved, neither do you_

  
...

ENGLAND, 2013

Louis let out a sigh of relief as the car hit 70 miles an hour, the motorway opening up before them and the promise of solitude stretching all the way to the vanishing point. Louis’ hand hung out the car window, slicing patterns into the wind and weaving in time to the music. The cool breeze whipped into the car, kissing Louis’ face and blowing Harry’s hair every which way. Louis let out a laugh at the sight, and reached over to brush it out of his eyes.

‘I was actually going for a look there.’ Louis smiled back at him.

‘Mm. very Bon Jovi.’

‘I heard the 80s were back.’

‘I don’t think so, love.’

‘Well I’m going to change that. With my Bon Jovi hair.’

Louis laughed again. He hadn’t felt this free in a long time, just the two of them and the open road. They finally had a few days off, and instead of hiding in their London home they had decided to escape to the country. Louis had initially wanted to go and visit family, but all it had taken was a few photos of the gorgeous cabin Harry had found, and he had caved. As if he could say no to Harry anyway.

The man himself seemed just as at ease as Louis, singing along softly to the car radio and steering with a looseness and confidence Louis wasn’t sure was justified. He glanced over at Louis, who couldn’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed at being caught staring.

‘What are you looking at?’ Harry teased.

‘Nothing. I just love you.’ Harry looked at him again, eyes crinkling with happiness as they searched Louis’.

‘I love you too.’ Louis smiled. Those words never ceased to fill him with exuberance and delight when they passed through Harry’s lips.

‘Eyes on the road.’ Harry chuckled, but dutifully looked back at the M1.

...

A few hours later, dusk had fully settled around their cabin, and Louis found himself with his legs thrown over Harry’s lap, gentle circles being drawn on his thigh. There was not a sound to be heard for miles around, and Louis could tell how much Harry was enjoying it. Their lives were so hectic that a moment of true peace was rare, and for Harry it was bliss. Louis, however, had always hated the quiet.

‘Harry.’

‘Mmm?’

‘Harold.’ Louis poked him softly.

‘Louis.’ Harry cracked an eye open, peering suspiciously at him.

‘I’m bored.’

‘We’ve only been here for 3 hours.’

‘But there’s nothing to DO here,’ Louis moaned. He always enjoyed playing this dynamic with Harry, teasing him, needling him.

‘That’s the point, darling. To get away from everything.’ Harry settled his hand firmly on Louis’ thigh, clasping it in place. Louis rolled his eyes dramatically and reached for his phone, promptly breaking the rule they had set themselves. He could feel Harry’s disapproving gaze on him as he logged on to Twitter.

He immediately regretted it as his timeline was splashed with images of Harry out with some blonde model, trashy tabloid slogans littering the screen. Louis dropped his phone, letting out a shaky breath. He shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow it felt like a tonne of bricks every single time.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked gently. ‘Sweetheart? What’s wrong?’ Louis showed him his phone screen, and Harry’s expression hardened.

‘I’m sorry, Haz, I know it shouldn’t get to me like this, I know it’s not real, but-‘ Harry shushed him, and resumed his caressing of Louis’ leg.

‘It’s alright. I understand. I’m so sorry sweetheart. I hate this, I hate that it hurts you.’ Louis let out another shaky breath, trying desperately to blink away the tears he could feel threatening to give him up. Harry could tell anyway, of course, and gathered Louis closer to him as hot tears burned rivers on his cheeks.

They rocked gently together, the promise of the night disappearing into a haze of tears and that all-encompassing, deafening silence, broken only by the screams of foxes in the fields that surrounded them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts! I’m not sure how well I’m doing in regards to characterisation, and I’m not sure if the non-chronological structure is annoying/confusing to read?


	5. Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they had been put in the band together and Louis had jumped into his arms, he had felt airless, but now? Now, it felt like Harry was soaring, completely weightless, with only Louis to anchor him. Louis, the boy who lit up every room he entered and could make anyone in the world laugh. Louis, the boy who made Harry feel like he was the most special person every time he was near him. Louis, who was currently half naked and grinding against Harry, face pressed into his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok chapter song is Jason by Perfume Genius. Be warned: mediocre smut ahead! Harry would be 16 and Louis 18 I guess so trigger warning.

_ Jason, there's no rush _

_ I know a lot comes up _

_ Letting in some love _

_ Where there always should've been some _

  
...

LONDON, 2010

Electricity. That was the feeling coursing through Harry’s veins right now, as his lips finally ( _finally_!) met Louis’. They parted, gasping for air, and he looked into the other boy’s eyes, searching for reassurance and shared excitement.

Instead, Louis’ eyes were wide with fear. He stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them.

‘Lou?’ Harry tried to sound confident, but couldn’t stop his voice breaking. He had been harbouring a huge crush on Louis ever since they had met at Bootcamp, and he thought Louis felt the same. Now Harry just felt confused, still reeling from Louis’ kiss.

‘Haz, I- I’m not... I mean, I can’t. I can’t be.’ Louis was frantic, and was pointedly not looking Harry in the eye. Harry felt his lower lip tremble and bit it, squeezing his eyes to try and stop the tears.

‘Lou, I don’t understand. I thought- I thought you liked me. I thought we liked each other.’

‘Of course I like you! Haz, I- I’m just confused. I’ve got a girlfriend. I- I’m straight.’ Louis said, voice wavering. ‘I’m straight.’ Harry cleared his throat a little and moved back slightly, trying to create some distance of his own.

‘But-‘ Harry didn’t have a chance to finish before Louis seemed overcome and lunged at him again, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss. Harry moaned, reaching his hands up to tangle in Louis’s hair, ensuring that Louis didn’t pull away this time. It just felt  right. Harry felt the electricity buzzing through him again, as though he was a live wire when he was connected to Louis.

Harry was the one to pull back this time, gasping for air and scrambling to take off his t-shirt. He looked at Louis, searching for signs of doubt or confusion, but he now just looked wild, panting and also moving to strip off his clothes. Harry couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his cheeks. He felt like he had been waiting for this all his life. He had messed around a bit with a couple of boys and girls at school, but Louis was completely different. He completely revered him, worshipped the ground he walked on. When they had been put in the band together and Louis had jumped into his arms, he had felt airless, but _now_? Now, it felt like Harry was soaring, completely weightless, with only Louis to anchor him. Louis, the boy who lit up every room he entered and could make anyone in the world laugh. Louis, the boy who made Harry feel like he was the most special person every time he was near him. Louis, who was currently half naked and grinding against Harry, face pressed into his neck.

‘God, Lou-‘ Harry gasped. He threw his head back in ecstasy, overwhelmed by warmth and pleasure. However, he felt a cold dampness on his neck. ‘Lou?’

Harry pulled back again to find the boy above him silently crying. ‘What’s wrong? Louis?’

‘Harry-‘ Louis tried to speak, but began to silently sob instead. Harry pulled him against his chest gently, holding him in a way he hoped was comforting. As Louis calmed down again, he pulled back, wiping his tear-stained face and again refusing to look Harry in the eye.

‘Harry, I’m sorry. I’ve just.. I’m not... I’m not gay.’ Harry balked. He knew he had had a much easier time accepting his sexuality than most, but he hadn’t realised how confused Louis clearly was. Harry had assumed the older boy had more experience than him, had assumed that his cool confidence extended to every aspect of his personality. 

‘I know Lou.’ He tried for reassurance. ‘It’s okay. I know.’ Harry didn’t know who reached for who this time, but the two were clumsily embracing again, lips brushing lips and hands running up and down one another’s torsos. Tears continued steadily down Louis’ cheeks, soon met by Harry’s own as they kissed.

Louis seemed to gain confidence as they went on, still shaky but softly giggling as Harry went to take off his boxers.

‘Are you sure, Lou?’ Harry looked straight into his eyes. Louis ducked his head shyly but nodded, smiling, and Harry’s heart filled with joy that he was lucky enough to see Louis like this. ‘So gorgeous,’ he muttered, playfully biting Louis’ hip before gently taking him into his mouth.

Louis moaned, and Harry looked up to see his head thrown back, the soft evening light illuminating the dried tears on his tan skin. Harry bobbed his head, laving his tongue across the underside of his cock, tracing the veins that adorned it.

‘Haz, fuck. Fuck that feels so good.’ Harry had only given one blowjob before, a quick, dirty event in a school toilet, but this felt nothing like that. He pressed gentle kisses up the side of Louis’ cock, fondling his balls and pressing his cheek against his upper thigh, trying to inhale as much of his scent as he could. He sunk back down on his member, but before he could get a real rhythm again, Louis’ clever fingers tugged his hair up so they came face to face.

Louis looked even more fucked out, eyes half closed and mouth slack. He leaned in to kiss Harry again while pulling his untouched dick out of his boxers, already aching with desire and slick with pre-come. The kiss was even dirtier than before, the taste of salty tears still present, and Louis started to pull them off together, his shaft rubbing against Harry’s. They moaned and panted in symphony, both quickly on the edge of orgasm. Louis’ strokes were urgent and desperate, his hand barely big enough to hold them both. Harry came first, shooting over their stomachs. He brought his hand down to cover Louis’, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

‘Come, Lou. Please, come for me. Wanna see it. You’re so gorgeous, I’m so lucky. Please baby, please come.’ With that, Louis shouted as he spilled over both their hands, and the two rolled off each other, catching their breath.

When Harry looked over at Louis, he was crying again.

‘Haz. I think- I think I’m gay.’ Harry pulled Louis into him, kissing his wet cheeks.

‘It’s okay Lou. It’s okay. I’m here. It’ll all be okay.’


	6. Must be Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry had known at the age of 16 that he was completely fucked for anyone else, and 10 years later he was proving himself right, trying not to cry in his big, fancy shower in his big, empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is ‘Must be Fine’ by Miel! Would highly rec the whole album actually.
> 
> Finally we’re catching up with current Harry!

_I keep going, thinking every day_

_I'm awake, must mean I'm okay_

_I must be fine_

...

LONDON, 2020

Harry was sat on his favourite bench in Hampstead Heath. It was 4 O’Clock but already getting dark, and he was wrapped in about 5 layers to try and stave off the chilly winter air. People around him went about their daily business, jogging, walking dogs, pushing prams, and Harry found it comforting. He had needed this after being in LA for too long, needed the biting winter and grey skies to remind him of reality.

On the walk home he stopped off at his local bakery, happily greeting the employees he had gotten to know over the years. He walked the same route he always did, and when he got home he cooled down with the same stretches he did every day. He found it funny sometimes to think about the life people speculated he led, compared to his real life most of the time. Despite his extraordinary job, Harry enjoyed routine more than anyone else he knew. He was a creature of habit, and had often theorised that this discipline was what helped him stay grounded and relatively sane.

As Harry stood in the shower, however, he found himself staring at the wall. He swallowed, but felt a familiar lump in his throat. Fuck. No matter what he did, this feeling always seemed to be there. An undercurrent of sadness, which if he let it, opened up to a cavernouss emptiness, a feeling of loneliness that could swallow him whole. It chased him, creeping along behind him and nipping at his heels from Tokyo to LA to London.

He knew. He knew deep down what the root of the feeling was, knew when he had started to feel it. Harry shook his head, turned up the temperature, tried to scald the thought out of his scalp, wash it out of his hair. That had always been the thing about Louis though. He couldn’t shake him off. Harry had known at the age of 16 that he was completely fucked for anyone else, and 10 years later he was proving himself right, trying not to cry in his big, fancy shower in his big, empty house.

Harry continued with his routine though. He dried himself off, cleansed, moisturised, brushed his hair. He made some food, ate it in front of the TV. Read for a bit. FaceTimed his mum. Tried to work on some songs. Told himself that he was fine. Jerked off thinking of Louis clutching at the sheets under him. Pretended to himself that he hadn’t. Went to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hungry for tasty lil comments! Please feed me!


	7. This is Where it Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is ‘This is Where it Ends’ by Alice Boman. Don’t worry though, it’s far from the end of my story! I promise we will get to a happy place!

_ For every minute, every second _

_ We are further and further apart _

_ And the bright colours surround us _

_ Are piercing through my heart  
_

...

2015, USA

‘Alright, thanks so much for coming guys!’ Harry laughed with the audience members he had been speaking to, smile bright, tossing his hair out of his face. Louis looked on from the other side of the stage. It felt like they were a mile apart, a river between them. He had always loved seeing Harry on stage, doing what he did best, his energy lighting up the crowds. Tonight, Harry was blazing bright as ever in front of thousands of enraptured fans, but Louis felt like it was burning him.

Thing was, he wasn’t meant to look at Harry. He had gotten pretty good at it over the years, sneaking glances out of his periphery, but right now, Louis couldn’t help but stare.They had been drifting apart for a while now, and had just had another shouting match before the show. Louis felt like shit. He was tired of singing the same songs, tired of all these cities that blurred into one. He was tired of fighting with Harry, and with the other boys. But Harry? Right now, Harry seemed completely unphased, glossy, a perfect fucking popstar. And Louis didn’t know him.

It wasn’t that Harry looked different, or sounded different, or even acted any different than usual. It was as if everything had come to a head at once, years of changing, growing, being pushed apart. Louis couldn’t help but think that this should feel different. It should feel cataclysmic, he should feel the very ground beneath his feet shift. Instead, he just felt a little bit sick. His chest panged with sadness, but also with relief.

They only had a couple more shows in the tour, their UK leg, and then they were going on hiatus. Louis had been dreading it, dreading the uncertainty it held both for the band and for him and Harry. Things had been so tense lately between them, and Louis had been suspecting deep down that without the distraction of the tour, he and Harry would reach a breaking point. Harry had been wanting to go to LA, and Louis couldn’t think of anything worse than spending a year and a half with Harry’s unbearable new friends in the suffocating California sun, no doubt being paraded around with Eleanor again to keep up the front.

So, a relief. Louis watched Harry lean back, inadvertently bathing his entire body in the golden spotlight, as he sprayed a cloud of water into the air on the final beat, met by the screams of his adoring fans. Louis stepped back out of his own light, leaving his mic on stage as he took the opportunity to go and cool down for a minute.

Backstage, he splashed some water on his face. It hit the mirror too, and as Louis looked up, his reflection was distorted by the droplets. He stared back at himself, thin and almost pallid, bags still clear under his stage makeup. He reached for the bottle of vodka they had all been sharing before the show. In his earpiece, he could hear Harry laughing with the crowd again. He took a swig. He ran back onstage, smiling at the other lads. He glanced at Harry again, and felt another pang of that sadness and relief. Just a few more shows, a couple more fights, a few more nights drinking and smoking alone while Harry met more friends Louis had never even heard of.   


After that, they would talk. Seriously talk, about what they both wanted from the break. What they wanted from each other.


	8. Your Body Changes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Jesus, Haz.’ Louis said reverently. ‘You’re so stunning. I’m so fucking lucky. Everyone wants you, all those girls. But I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is by Perfume Genius. Smut ahead!!! Thought we should take a lil break from all the sadness :)

_ Your body changes everything _

_ You are anchoring _

_ Until you fit beneath me _

_ And you're breaking like a wave_

...

2012

They were sat in bed in a giant hotel room somewhere in Australia, Harry on the left and Louis on the right as always. The other double bed was covered by the contents of Louis’ suitcase, which had been tipped upside down earlier in search of a particular sock. An old episode of Neighbours was playing on the TV, though neither were paying attention to it. 

‘Do you miss home?’ Louis asks softly, playing with Harry’s curls. Harry sighs a little in response, letting his eyes fall shut. 

‘Yeah. I miss my mum loads. Miss Gemma too.’ Louis pokes him in his dimple.

‘Oi, what about _our_ home?’ Harry giggles.

‘I miss our bed.’ He opens his eyes and swiftly turns his head to lick Louis’ hand, causing the older boy to let out an indignant squeal. ‘But I’ve got you right here. ‘S like bringing home on tour with me.’ Louis leans in and gives him a soft kiss, leaning back and smiling that smile that crinkled his eyes, Harry’s favourite smile. Harry reaches out to stroke the pad of his thumb over those little crinkles and Louis nudges into his hand, pressing another kiss into his palm, and then peppering more kisses down his wrist.

Harry tugs his arm away, grinning and pushing out of Louis’ arms in order to sit on him and pin him between his legs. Louis’s hands immediately go to Harry’s thighs and he groans, looking up with awe. Harry leans down to kiss him again, parting Louis’ lips with his tongue and pushing into his mouth to explore. Louis’s hands drift up to Harry’s butt, squeezing and petting as the kiss becomes dirtier, fingers quickly slipping beneath his waistband. 

‘Harry. Please.’ Louis gasps, tugging at his pants. Harry lifts his hips up so Louis can peel them off, and the two made quick work of Louis’ ownboxers. The hotel room was cool but the heat from outside was still stuck to their skin, and the low rumble of traffic twelve stories below drifted through the open window.

When their naked bodies are finally pressed together, Harry lets out a moan of satisfaction. It always feels so good, so right, to be with Louis like this. When there’s nothing to hide and they can truly be themselves. Louis knows him better than anyone else in the world, knows every part of him, his deepest fears, his greatest desires, the parts of his body that light him up. 

Louis takes advantage of that now, biting down on the bit of Harry’s neck that drives him crazy, and he clutches at Louis’ hair in response, throwing his head back and groaning.

‘Mm. That’s right baby, be loud for me. Wanna hear you.’ Harry did as he was told, letting out a string of explicatives as Louis continued attacking his neck and chest.

‘Please, Lou. Please, want you to fuck me. Want you to fuck me so hard.’

‘Fuck. Want that too. Shit, baby, you’re so fit.’ Harry feels a gentle pressure on his hole as Louis rubs it lightly, teasing him, before pushing a slick finger inside him. Harry gasps at the intrusion, burying his head in Louis’ shoulder. His world becomes hazy as Louis swiftly works him open, occasionally brushing his prostate and all the while petting and stroking his back. Louis was so good at doing this when Harry bottomed, so good at putting him in a headspace where he felt completely safe, where he forgot about everything except Louis and his clever, sure fingers. 

‘I’m ready. Please, Lou. Need you right now.’ Louis pulled his fingers out of Harry, pulling him down for another sloppy kiss before flipping Harry over so he was stomach down, his chest pressed into the bed and arse in the air. 

‘Jesus, Haz.’ Louis said reverently. ‘You’re so stunning. I’m so fucking lucky. Everyone wants you, all those girls. But I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.’ He runs his hands over Harry’s cheeks before pulling them apart to better see his hole, open and ready. ‘I’m the only one who gets to see how badly you want it, want me.’ With that, he presses into Harry, bottoming out and letting out a moan of his own. Harry feels so full, finally feels complete now Louis is in him. Louis quickly starts to move, building up a rhythm and brushing against Harry’s spot with every thrust. 

‘Lou, Lou, Lou,’ Harry chants, his cock slapping against his belly as Louis’ thrusts move him. He arches his back, shifting the angle so Louis is now hitting him dead on, and it feels like he’s ascending to another plane of fucking existence. He drops his head down against the mattress, giving in to Louis completely as he cries out in ecstasy. ‘Harder, please.’ Louis complies, reaching a hand out to push Harry’s chest further into the mattress to improve his leverage, and thrusting even harder, panting above him.

‘Fuck, Haz, you feel so good. I love you, fuck.’ Harry moans again, pushing back to meet Louis’ thrusts and clenching in time. ‘Harry, I’m gonna-‘ 

Louis’ hips stutter as he reaches his orgasm, clutching at Harry’s hips as he buries himself to the hilt and fills Harry up. Harry reaches for his own neglected dick, desperately jacking himself off as he feels himself nearing climax. He is suddenly spun around as Louis pulls them into a spooning position, and Louis takes advantage of his temporary confusion to take over, pumping Harry’s cock and reaching up to tug at his nipple with his other hand. Harry gasps, writhing in Louis’ arms and then finally crying out and shooting into his hand. 

They lay entwined, trying to catch their breath, sticky and sated, and Harry turns his head to look into Louis’ eyes. 

‘I love you.’ 

Louis crinkle-smiles again.

‘love you too, Haz.’ 

Harry grins back at him. He feels so incredibly happy. It’s just him and Louis against the world.


	9. Maybe I’m Amazed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could easily open his dressing room door right now, find his mates and go for a drink, but now he almost took a satisfaction in the stark contrast between this show and the last tour. He drank in the solitude and the quiet, unsure if he was a glutton for punishment or if he was genuinely coming to terms with being solo, in every sense of the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is ‘Maybe I’m amazed’ by Paul McCartney. We’re catching up with current Louis!

_Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all time  
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you _   
_Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song  
Right me when I'm wrong  
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you  
  
_

_..._

LISBON, 2020

Louis came off stage, beaming from ear to ear. He had been bricking it before the performance, his first proper solo show, but now he was riding the same post-show as before. People were patting him on the back, shaking his hand, crew members and people he would struggle to name in a line-up. He could still hear the crowd screaming and chanting and he walked down the hallway in a daze, barely registering all the congratulations. It was a bizarre feeling, after a show, not really like anything else. It was like experiencing the highest high on stage, and then you just had to go home, or get on a bus and go to the next city or hotel.

Louis closed his dressing room door, shutting out all the noise, and sank down onto the sofa, reaching for the joint he had left out and lighting it, hands a bit shaky. He took a drag, breathing deeply and trying to chill out. As he waited for it to set in he tweeted out his thanks, liking a few fan tweets from the show. In the band, shows were always followed by some sort of party on the tour bus and maybe the hotel, getting drunk with the lads before waking up the next morning and doing it all again. Louis purposely didn’t think of the ritual he and Harry had to ride off their post-show adrenaline, the rushed moments of ecstasy in dressing rooms and hotel rooms all across the world.

He could easily open his dressing room door right now, find his mates and go for a drink, but now he almost took a satisfaction in the stark contrast between this show and the last tour. He drank in the solitude and the quiet, unsure if he was a glutton for punishment or if he was genuinely coming to terms with being solo, in every sense of the word.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, and one of his team poked their head in.

‘Just some flowers!,’ she exclaimed, setting down several bouquets before exiting again. Louis took another drag before stamping out the joint and going over to look at the flowers. He smirked a little, thinking what a cliche it was. Like he was a bloody Broadway actress or something. One bouquet from his sisters, one from his manager, one from his publicist. And one-

Louis gasped, stumbling back a bit.

Lou,

Congrats on the show and the rest of the tour. You’re going to be incredible.  
I listened to the album, it’s beautiful. You should be so proud. I always am.

Yours, H

Louis felt like he couldn’t breathe for a minute, re-reading the note several times over. He and Harry had barely spoken in years, exchanged curt remarks after the breakup and obligatory niceties through the press when forced.

Now, reading the words ‘Yours, H,’ he felt like he was dreaming. What had possessed Harry to send this, and what did he mean by it? Louis hadn’t even known of Harry had listened to his album, had thought he might have avoided it on purpose.

Louis sat down again, head spinning. In less than 40 words, Harry had ruined both Louis’ post-show high and the four years of pretending not to care, not to think of him. It was a rude awakening, like having a bucket of ice water tipped over him in the morning.

Another knock came on his door, and Louis’ friends jostled their way in, crowding him again and still cheering, still rowdy, still excited about the show. Louis smiled at them, joined in, accepted the drink that was offered. His mind was elsewhere though, head spinning. He thought of Harry most nights, bitterly, languidly, but tonight was different. Now he  _ knew  _ that Harry was thinking of him, was listening to his music. He felt a bit less alone, and it wasn’t because of the people crowded around him.


	10. Ketchum, ID

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Love you,’ Louis replied shortly, before hanging up. Harry had never believed those words less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is ‘Ketchum, ID’ by Boygenius. 
> 
> In my mind this takes place shortly before chapter 7. Hopefully you can see where both of their minds are, and where their communication issues lie.

_ Being in love  
Is the same thing as being alone  
Given the sorrows and company  
Nothing to say  
But stay on the phone _

...

  
LA, 2015  
  


‘Hi Love.’ Harry’s phone speaker distorted Louis’ voice into a crackled copy of his soft tone, and he winced, plugging in his headphones. 

They had a short break from tour, and Harry was staying in the US while Louis went back home to see his family. 

‘I miss you,’ Harry sighed, tugging the sleeves of Louis’ jumper down to cover his hands. It had been a long time since they had spent more than a couple of days apart, and Harry was worried. Things had been... tense between them lately, and they had decided it would be good to spend the fortnight separately.

‘How are you?,’ Louis asked. 

‘I don’t know.’ Harry was being honest. He had been so confused lately, so stressed out about the band and his relationship. ‘How are you?’ Louis made a non-comittal noise. 

‘It’s so great to be home. Proper freaks me out though, how much the twins have grown. Feels good to be back though... feels right.’ Harry flinched. It may not have been what he was implying, but what Harry heard beneath Louis’ words was akin to  _ I’m happy without you.  _

‘I miss them. Wish I could see them,’ he tried. Louis made another noise of vague affirmation, his apparent lack of excitement slicing through Harry like a knife. 

‘Have you been writing at all?’ Louis asked him. Harry hadn’t. He was feeling so muddled, and while putting pen to paper would normally help him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. A part of him was scared of what would come out, what truths would spill out as the ink met the page and what fears would vibrate out of his guitar strings as they buzzed, filling the room. 

‘No. Haven’t really thought of much to write about. What about you?’ 

‘A bit.’ Louis answered. ‘Been so busy here though, haven’t had much time. Wouldn’t mind getting into the studio with Liam though when I get back.’ Harry chuckled a little.

‘Good luck finding time before we’re on the road again.’ 

‘I know you’re tired of it, baby. So am I.’ Louis said softly. ‘We should just quit the band and fuck off to Scotland or something.’ Harry smiled into his phone. It was something they had always joked about, quitting and moving somewhere remote together. Some island where they could be alone, away from prying eyes.

‘What if we did?’ he said suddenly. Louis snorted in response. ‘I’m serious, Lou. We should dissolve the band for a bit. Take a break.’ The phone was deafeningly silent, then:

‘Please tell me you’re joking, Harry.’ Louis was far more protective of the band than Harry, and he could hear it in his icy tone. Especially since their numbers had dwindled to four, which Louis had taken personally. Harry remembered stroking his hair as he cried at night and rubbing his back as he puked up tequila.

‘Is it really that crazy? We’ve been going nonstop for five years. We deserve a holiday for more than just two fucking weeks.’

‘Really, Haz? You just want a little holiday with me?’ Louis hissed. ‘I’d believe that if you could bear to spend a single bloody second away from all your friends over  _ there_.’ Harry rolled his eyes. 

‘Jesus Christ Louis, not this again. It’s not like I’m excluding you. You just never want to come out with us!’ Louis scoffed.

‘They don’t like me Harry. I don’t think they even like  _ you_, just like that you’re famous.’ Harry clenched his jaw, frustrated. 

‘I’m not having this fight again, Lou.’ He was met with silence again. ‘I love you. I’ll speak to you in the morning.’

‘Love you,’ Louis replied shortly, before hanging up. Harry had never believed those words less.

He closed his eyes, concentrated on his breathinguntil he had calmed down and felt less like screaming or crying. He held the still-warm phone to his chest for a moment, before picking it back up and openingInstagram. He was using social media far less nowadays, sick of the way people spoke about him and tired of organising his life into what he was allowed to share, what was appropriate, what was private, what was secret. How every little thing would be construed and what that could mean for him, Louis, the rest of the boys, not to mention everyone who’s jobs hinged on them and their success. 

He scrolled down for a minute, coming across some images and videos of himself and Louis. He would normally screenshot them and send them to him, but today he didn’t. Instead, he stared at the picture of them. It must have been taken in 2011 or so, Harry’s hair short and his cheeks still chubby. Louis didn’t look that different in comparison, except for the bright colours he was sporting. Baby Louis and Harry were staring into one another’s eyes like they couldn’t see anything else in the world, let alone the camera immortalising the moment. 

Harry stroked his thumb over the photo. In the morning, one of them would break first and call the other, and they would apologise like they always did, reassure each other of their love. Harry had instilled these rituals as a rule early in their relationship, but as their fights became more regular, it seemed more of a meaningless routine. He had cited good communication as the reason for these phone calls, these apologies, but now he wondered if they were even saying anything any more by repeating the same words. The boys in the picture on Harry’s phone were the ones who said the words, their love frozen in ritual as it was frozen on the screen. But as Harry caught his reflection in the glass of his phone, he saw how different he looked with his long hair and sharp cheekbones. He and Louis had changed so much, and if they were going to make it through this rough patch, they needed to reinstill meaning into their words, to imbue their relationship with meanings and with love that worked for them as they were now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking of making a playlist in case anyone is interested in listening to any of the songs that form the chapter titles :)


	11. Eugene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was listening to Louis’ album. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is ‘Eugene’ by Sufjan Stevens. I feel like we are finally getting a sense of movement in this plot!! Yay! 
> 
> Also I have started another fic if you want to check it out :)

_ Some part of me was lost in your sleeve  
_ _ Where you hid your cigarettes   
No I’ll never forget_

_ I just want to be near you _

...

  
LONDON, 2020

Harry was listening to Louis’ album. Again. He had avoided it like the plague when it first came out, happily distracted by the success of his own record. He had listened to bits in passing, but a couple of weeks ago he had finally managed to sit down and properly listen, and he had had it on repeat since. Harry had always been supportive of Louis’ songwriting when they were together, and had been so proud when he took the lead on Midnight Memories. The new record felt like the culmination of Louis’ career, a showcase of his talents, and Harry was blown away, just as in awe of Louis as he had been in 2013.

Of course, Harry was well aware most of the songs were about him. It hurt, as he had suspected, to hear Louis’ side of their story, but it also felt cathartic. He imagined Louis felt the same way listening to his records. It was also hugely eye-opening for Harry. They had ended things so badly, and he had heard next to nothing from Louis since 2015, so he was expecting bitter, angry music. The wistful, nostalgic tracks were quite the opposite, and suggested that perhaps Louis felt much the same as Harry did. Harry took great comfort in this, if only because the idea of being hated upset him. A few days ago Harry had gotten drunk with a friend and ended the night by ordering an elaborate floral bouquet for Louis, with a congratulatory note wishing him luck at his first show.

Listening now, lying on his bed, Harry pictured Louis writing the album. Tracks like ‘Too Young’ conjured up images of Louis, just as alone and hurt as Harry had been writing his debut album. The majority of the tracks, however, implied that Louis was still as stuck on Harry as he was on Louis. This had been a revelation to Harry, who tended to assume he was alone in everything. That was, of course, part of the reason he and Louis hadn’t worked out. Harry couldn’t help the thought as it crossed his mind: maybe they could have a second chance? As soon as it occurred to him, he pushed it down and away, into a box at the back of his mind (an area already largely occupied by Louis). No. They had split up for a reason. They had grown so far apart over the course of the five years, and as far as Harry could tell they had become even more wildly different in the years since.

The thing was though, no one else had been able to compete with Louis. No one had even come close. Harry had had one-night-stand after one-night-stand, fling after fling with men and women alike, but he hadn’t been able to form a real connection with any of them. When things were good with Louis, they had been  _ so _ good. Harry had truly felt understood, like he didn’t need to speak and Louis would know his meaning. It was the only relationship Harry had ever had where he felt like he ceased to be a whole person and had become one half of something, something greater than himself. And in truth, Harry still felt like he was missing his other half.

He buried his face in his duvet now. He was sick of pretending to himself that he didn’t know exactly what that missing half was. It was still Louis, it had been all this time. Harry sat up suddenly, overwhelmed by his realisation. If his life were a film, he would go and chase Louis down right this second, fall to his knees before him and declare his undying love. To Harry’s constant disappointment, however, that wasn’t how the real world worked. All he could do realistically would be to put out feelers. He just needed to know how Louis felt about him. Harry wondered how he had reacted to the flowers, if he had even noticed them. Perhaps he had taken one look at the ‘H’ and thrown them in the bin. Maybe his assistant had thrown them away before they even got to Louis, and he remained oblivious to the fact that Harry was thinking about him.

Harry shook the thoughts out of his head, and reached for his phone. He opened his text thread with Niall, and shot off a simple message:

_ Hey man, do you wanna grab a drink sometime? Need to talk about the L word. _


	12. Help Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just being next to Harry made his insides bubble and froth up, in danger of spilling out onto the green carpet and laying him bare for all to see, a flayed man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is ‘Help Me’ by Joni Mitchell! 
> 
> Please let me know if there are any moments/eras you’d enjoy seeing in these past chapters, or anything you’d like to see explored! 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Help me, I think I'm falling in love with you_  
_ Are you going to let me go there by myself  
_ _ That's such a lonely thing to do _

...

CHESHIRE, 2010

‘Lads, you’ll never guess what?!’

The boys’ heads all whipped up as Louis entered Harry’s dad’s bungalow. It was their last night of “rehearsing”, and they planned on getting absolutely smashed.

‘You got the vodka, yeah Lou?’ Niall asked nervously. Louis grinned, presenting his loot to the group.

‘Course I did. But guess what else?’

Before anyone could respond, Louis pulled the newspaper from behind his back. ‘We’re in the bloody Telegraph!’ 

Louis was quickly surrounded by his excited band mates all trying to get a look at their picture, printed next to a column about the X-Factor. It was seriously cool. Louis stepped back, letting them take it from his hands. He went to the kitchen to put away the booze, but as he opened the cupboard he heard footsteps following him in.

‘I can’t believe it, Lou.’ Louis braced himself as he looked up to meet Harry’s green eyes, wide and shining with excitement.

‘I know, Haz, It’s fucking sick. We’re getting proper famous, eh?,’ he teased. ‘Guess you’re definitely not gonna be doing your A Levels now.’ Harry giggled, and stepped closer to Louis. 

‘I’m really glad we got put in the band together.’ His face was devastatingly sincere, and Louis had to look away before he did something really stupid, like kiss him. He schooled his face into his own version of sincerity.

‘Me too, Harold.’ Harry smiled, and went back to join the others. Louis slumped against the counter, letting the tension out of his shoulders. This week had been one of the most fun of his life, but also one of the most stressful. Louis didn’t know what was happening to him, didn’t know why he felt how he did around Harry. He had a girlfriend back in Donny, for fuck’s sake.

But every time Harry was in the same room as him, it was like Louis’ heart could burst out of his chest. He had to actively keep himself in check or he’d get too absorbed by Harry’s stupid, curly, hair and his stupid, cheeky, grin. When Harry sang, it was like everything else dropped away and he was the only thing Louis could see. And Louis fucking hated himself for it.

Louis had always been confident in who he was, had never needed to question himself before. He had always been popular: athletic, good-looking, a class clown. But meeting Harry had turned his whole world upside down. It wasn’t like Louis was gay or anything, but Harry just... did something to him. He had been on edge all week, worried that he would somehow give the whole thing away. A tremble of his voice at the wrong time, a brush of his fingers in the wrong place, one glance too many in Harry’s direction, and it could cause a landslide.

A part of him was worried he’d just blurt it out, tell Harry everything (though he wasn’t sure what everything even was!) Harry had hinted that he might not be completely straight; he seemed so comfortable with himself, and that confused Louis even more. Louis was holding his cards close to his chest and he was torn between holding them closer and hiding them in his pocket, or throwing them face-up on the table and folding.

Louis walked back into the living room and took a seat in the only remaining spot, next to Harry on the sofa. The boys were all talking, but Louis could barely pay attention, caught up in Harry again. Just being next to him made his insides bubble and froth up, in danger of spilling out onto the green carpet and laying him bare for all to see, a flayed man. Harry laughed at something dumb Zayn said and innocently moved his foot onto Louis’ calf. It was freezing, and if it was anyone else Louis would move it off. If it was Louis’ girlfriend, he would move it off. But it was Harry’s foot, and it’s cold, solid, weight both comforted Louis and wrecked him. He could cry right now, because of Harry’s foot and Harry’s laugh and his stupid, stupid curls, and how he made Louis feel like he didn’t know who he even was anymore. All he knew was that he was completely fucked.


	13. Between the Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was like the rug had been pulled out from under him; He was flipped off his feet and falling through the air, unsure of which way was up. With one fell swoop, one little note, Harry had fucked him up all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is of course Elliott Smith. Present day Louis now. If you hadn’t noticed I am pretending Covid isn’t a thing in this lol.

_Drink up one more time, and I'll make you mine  
Keep you apart, deep in my heart  
Separate from the rest, where I like you the best   
And keep the things you forgot_

...

LOS ANGELES, 2020

‘Last call!’

Louis raised his head from it’s rest in the crook of his elbow and blearily tried to make eye contact with the bartender, signalling for a final drink. The bar he was sitting in was dingy and sticky with booze, and the only other patrons were lone drinkers like him. As a glass was pushed in front of him, Louis sat up properly. The room was spinning, the amber bottles multiplying in front of him, and the concerned face of the bartender out of focus.

‘It’s water, buddy. You got a ride home?’

Louis tried to respond eloquently, but ended upletting out a garbled sort of groan instead. He reached out to drink the water, closing his eyes and letting the cool feeling of the liquid passing between his lips ground him for a second. The bartender helped him get out his phone and contact his driver, Louis’ eyelids and skull feeling heavier and fuzzier by the second. He put some money on the bar (he’d never understand dollars, even if he was sober) and staggered outside.

He stood in the doorway, letting the stale scent out into the warm California night. He toppled down the steps, slumping down at the bottom where he pulled out a fag, hands shaky. The smoke billowed up, backlit by the orange haze of the streetlights. Louis didn’t have any fucking clue where he was. He had had some bullshit meeting earlier with a label, then had driven out to a random LA suburb and found a dive bar, the dim lighting and cheap beer calling out to him, a beacon of comfort in the never-ending dusty sprawl.

He buried his head in his hands again, trying to stop the spinning. Honestly, Louis had been spiralling ever since he had read Harry’s letter after his show. Normally he drank to distract from the dull, thudding pain that threatened to engulf him, constantly nipping at his heels. Now, it was like the rug had been pulled out from under him; He was flipped off his feet and falling through the air, unsure of which way was up. With one fell swoop, one little note, Harry had fucked him up all over again.

Louis took another sharp inhale of his cigarette, stubbing it out before it burned down to his fingers. Fuck Harry. Louis couldn’t let him have this kind of hold on him still, it wasn’t fair. He fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts until he found the number he swore he would never dial again. Empowered by the alcohol coursing through his veins and the rage he felt, he hit dial. It rang through, and it felt like a knife twisting in his heart when he heard Harry’s deep, drawling voice.

‘Hey, you missed me. Leave a message or just text me!’

The harsh beep rang into Louis’ ears, and he let out a shaky breath.

‘Haz. Harry- I- it’s.. ‘s me. I jus’ wanted to call and say a big- a big fuck you. Why... why’d you sen’ me tha’ letter? Wha’ the fuck was tha’ s’pposed to mean?’ Louis could tell he was slurring his words, and took a few deep breaths, trying to sober himself up a little. ‘I just- I was doin’ okay. I was... _coping_. It was normal. And now... fuck, Harry. You’ve proper screwed me up, y’know tha’? I can’t even... I dunno what I’m meant to... to...’ Louis gasped for air, feeling himself freaking out again, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He hung up the phone and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will himself okay. He put his head between his legs, shutting out the balmy night and the harsh realities it contained.

A few minutes later, Louis’ driver was helping him into the backseat and plying him with more water. He fell asleep before they even got back to his house, the promise of a cruel hangover in the morning tainting his already restless dreams.


	14. Pink in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to breathe Louis in like air, to have him fill him up and occupy him entirely. And after a taste, he wasn’t satiated. He wanted more, more, more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been so long guys!!
> 
> This chapter is set just after chapter 5, and is named after the Mitski song.

_I could stare at your back all day_  
_I could stare at your back all day_  
_And I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right_

_Can I try again, try again, try again_

_Try again, and again, and again And again, and again, and again_

London, 2010  
  


Things had been weird between them since that night. It had been the best night of Harry’s life, including all the X-Factor stuff, but now he couldn’t help but question if it was worth it. They were about to go to LA and record an album together, and Louis wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

That night, he had held Louis in his arms while he cried, rubbed his back and rocked him to sleep. It had also been the single hottest experience of Harry’s life to date. Louis was so heart-breakingly gorgeous it almost hurt to look at him, and Harry had been so overwhelmed that his feelings were reciprocated. In the moment, he had thought that seeing Louis break down like that would shift their power dynamic, tug Louis down slightly from the pedestal he occupied in Harry’s mind. 

Looking at him now though, Harry knew he had been wrong. Louis was laughing at something Niall had done, his head thrown back and the tendons in his neck shifting just so. His laughter was filling the whole room, every occupant enamoured by his buoyancy. And Harry more than anyone else. Even when they were surrounded by girls screaming their heads off for Louis, it was no competition. Harry was Louis’ number one fan, convinced he would follow him to the ends of the earth. Whenever Louis payed attention to him, played with his hair or teased him, Harry felt time stop around them. But Louis would brush it off, move on to something else, and Harry would be left reeling. 

And now, after having everything briefly affirmed, everything was still up in the air with him. Harry knew intellectually that it was because Louis was scared. But Harry remained breathless, gasping for more of this beautiful man. He wanted to breathe Louis in like air, to have him fill him up and occupy him entirely. And after a taste, he wasn’t satiated. He wanted more, more, more.

‘Haz?’ He blinked, being called back to reality. It was Zayn. ‘We were gonna grab some food. You coming?’ 

‘Oh, um. No thanks mate. I’m not hungry.’ He looked to Louis, who had remained firmly in his seat, likely expecting Harry to go. Their eyes met, and the ball was in Louis’ court. To stay or to go. To be alone with Harry or to run away. He could see Louis’ Adam’s apple Bob as he swallowed nervously.

‘I’ll catch you lads in a bit, yeah?’ Harry was surprised, but kept a steady face. The door closed, and a clock somewhere in the room seemed to suddenly tick at the volume of an aeroplane. Louis’ eyes danced around, flickering to and from Harry.

‘Louis. Please can we just... are we okay?’ Harry broke first, and couldn’t help the lilt of desperation that tinged his voice. Louis’ eyes softened, and his mouth twitched. He didn’t say anything though.

‘Lou.’ Harry couldn’t stop himself filling the silence, the words coming out involuntarily. ‘Please. I miss you, I miss us. If you regret what happened, we can just forget it, but please. I need- I need you. Please’

‘Oh Harry.’ Louis was up out of his seat like a shot, coming to sit by him. ‘I don’t regret a thing. I swear. I just needed some time, y’know? To come to terms with- with-‘

‘The gay thing?’ Harry suggested lightly.

‘Right. Yeah. But it’s not you. You’re perfect, Haz, you know that. You’re my favourite person.’ Harry grinned, all the familiar feelings of warmth filling him up inside out.

‘You’re my favourite person too.’ Louis grinned back at him, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that Harry loved. 

‘Can I-‘ Louis leaned in slightly. ‘Can I kiss you again?’ Harry didn’t even bother responding, launching himself at him and pressing their lips together, teeth clashing in their shared smiles. Louis’ hands claimed Harry’s cheeks and neck, stroking softly, and he could barely contain a shiver. He reluctantly pulled back, maintaining some contact nevertheless.

‘So we can keep... doing this?’

‘Yeah. Let’s keep it to ourselves though, yeah? For now at least.’ Harry nodded.

‘And Lou, you know you can talk to me, right? About all this stuff. I get it, I promise.’ Louis smiled again, and gently tucked a strand of Harry’s hair. He leaned in again to claim Harry’s lips in another kiss, and it was as though Harry could finally breathe.


	15. Diamonds and Rust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the closest he had felt to Louis in years. A message of heartbreak, of loss, of love, that had passed from Louis’ lips and been beamed up into the stars, caught and sent on to Harry by a satellite circling them thousands of miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is by Joan Baez. This follows immediately after chapter 13. 
> 
> Sorry I’ve been so bad at updating guys! I’ve been pressuring myself to make the story happier, and I haven’t really been in the mood for that lol.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone reading though! Your likes and comments make my lil heart warm :)

_Well I'll be damned  
Here comes your ghost again_   
_But that's not unusual  
It's just that the moon is full  
And you happened to call  
And here I sit  
Hand on the telephone  
Hearing a voice I'd known  
A couple of light years ago  
Heading straight for a fall_

  
...

LA, 2020

_ ‘...fuck, Harry. You’ve proper screwed me up, y’know tha’? I can’t even... I dunno what I’m meant to... to...’  _

The phone cut off. Harry’s thumb hesitated over the replay button. It was stupid, but a little part of him hoped that maybe it’d be different if he played it again. 

‘Haz.’ The message started again. Louis’ voice was slurred, and Harry could practically smell the alcohol. It had been left in the middle of the night when Harry was fast asleep, like something manifested from his dreams. Louis had clearly been on a bender, and Harry doubted he would even remember leaving the message. In a way, it was affirming just to know that Louis was thinking of him, that he had made some sort of impression. He had started to feel a bit like a ghost, invisible to Louis but unable to move on. Haunting him. Being haunted. This voicemail broke Harry’s heart, but it felt like a step in the right direction, whatever that direction might be. 

Harry played the message again, slumping down into his chair and letting out a sigh. He did know he had fucked Louis up. Of course he had. But Louis had fucked him up just as much, surely he could see that? He needed to talk to Louis, to see him in person and hash it out. Maybe they were mature enough now, maybe they were far enough away from their relationship. Harry could put on a brave face, pretend he didn’t still carry a torch for Louis. He just had to get Louis to agree to meet him. 

It was the closest he had felt to Louis in years. A message of heartbreak, of loss, of love, that had passed from Louis’ lips and been beamed up into the stars, caught and sent on to Harry by a satellite circling them thousands of miles away. Harry imagined it now, gleaming metal alone in the night, passively watching the stories of millions of lovers unfold, yet also so integral to each one. Millions of metallic love letters shooting through the sky every second.

It didn’t seem quite so scary when he put it into perspective like that. So Harry picked up his phone and made a split-second decision, diving off a cliffside into deep, murky water, chasing the glimmer of hope that lay at the bottom.

The phone rang. 

‘-lo?’ Louis sounded groggy, his voice low with sleep. Harry inhaled sharply, fingers curling around his phone and stomach filled with butterflies.

‘Louis? It’s me.’

‘Harry. What the- why are you calling me?’ Still grumpy. Louis had never been a morning person. He was probably still asleep until the phone rang. 

‘I just wanted to talk Lou. After your message last night, I-‘ Louis groaned, cursed under his breath. 

‘Fuck, Harry, sorry about that. I was fucking pissed off, okay, I shouldn’t have called you. I was drunk.’

‘I could tell.’ Harry said dryly. ‘Look, maybe I shouldn’t have just sent those flowers out of the blue. But I really wanna talk things out with you. Surely we owe each other that much?’

Louis was quiet for a moment. Abruptly:

‘So you liked the album?’ Harry couldn’t help but smile softly at that.

‘Of course I did, Lou. You know how I feel about your songwriting.’

‘I _knew_ how you _felt_.’ Louis corrected, unable to hold back the edge of bitterness. ‘Please don’t- please don’t call me that Harry.’ He was quiet now, barely a whisper. ‘It’s too hard for me.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to.’ Harry’s heart was breaking all over again. ‘ _Please_ meet with me Louis. I think it’d be good for us. So we can... move on.’

‘Fine. I’m in LA now though.’

‘So am I. Lunch tomorrow? Shelley’s?’

‘Okay.’ Louis sounded resigned.

‘And Louis?’ He hummed. ‘Don’t think for a second that this is any easier for me than it is for you.’ 

The phone disconnected, and Harry bit his lip. Speaking to Louis after all this time had just confirmed one thing: Harry was still completely hung up on him.

Tomorrow he would walk into that cafe, fated to spend the rest of his life in love with a man who resented him for all the pain he had caused. All Harry could do was apologise, air his grievances, and hope they could start to forgive each other. Maybe then he could start to distract himself again, could write one song about something other than his ex-lover.

But for now, Harry could only walk over to his piano, fuelled by the butterflies in his stomach and the electricity in his fingers, as he was overwhelmed with the urge to write yet another one about Louis. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. if anyone knows of a way to make a playlist without linking my Spotify please let me know! I would love to link all the songs that have inspired this fic.


	16. You Make Loving Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is by Fleetwood Mac and chapter is sugary fluff! Enjoy!

_ Sweet wonderful you  
_ _ You make me happy with the things you do _

_ Oh, can it be so?  
_ _ This feeling follows me wherever I go _

...

LONDON, 2012

‘I’m so happy.’ Harry scrunched up his nose, and Louis couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing it. Harry giggled and ducked his head, so Louis had no choice but to hold his face in place and place more kisses all over it. Harry squawked in protest as Louis attacked every inch, from eyebrow to ear, before attacking him back. They laughed together, bathed in the late morning sunshine that graced their kitchen, breathlessly happy.

‘My hair’s all messed up now, Lou,’ Harry pouted, reseating himself. Louis pouted back.

‘Well we can’t have that can we?’ He slid his hands into the curls, half-heartedly smoothing them down. ‘It’s your own fault though, Haz. You can’t make me pancakes in the morning and expect me not to kiss all over your stupid face.’

Harry laughed again, bright as the sun. ‘I guess I’ll just have to stop cooking for you then.’ Louis gasped in response, clutching his chest.

‘And leave me to starve? You wouldn’t dare!’ Louis pretended to faint, trusting Harry with his full body weight. As expected, he was safe in his boyfriend’s arms, and as he opened his eyes they were met with Harry’s loving gaze.

‘You’re such an idiot, Lou.’

‘Oi. I’m your legal guardian.’

‘Not anymore you’re not. I’m an adult now, remember?’ Louis sighs wistfully.

‘They grow up so quickly.’ Harry flicks his face fondly in response.

‘Are you gonna do the dishes or not?’

Louis let out another dramatic sigh, straightening up and picking up the plates. Dragging his feet as he went to the sink, he looked back and caught Harry distracted by Louis’ best asset. He made sure to put an extra wiggle in his step, and leaned over just so as he got to the counter. Before he knew it, he had 6 foot of curly-headed boy plastered to his back. Louis smirked.

‘You miss me that much, Curly? Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and pressed his crotch into his arse.

‘I always miss you.’

‘We literally live and work together. And sleep together. And shower together.’ Harry didn’t deign respond, opting instead to nuzzle his nose into Louis’ neck. As Louis scrubbed, the sunlight streamed into the room and Harry gently swayed Louis in time to the music wafting from the radio.

‘Dance with me.’ Louis rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that stretched his cheeks. 

‘I’ve got to do the dishes Haz. It’s a very important job, don’t you know.’ Harry whined and yanked Louis into the middle of the kitchen floor, spinning him round and pulling him into his arms.

‘Fuckin’ koala, you are,’ Louis said, leaning his head contentedly into the crook of Harry’s shoulder. They swayed to the crooning music, slowly revolving on the tiled floor.

The song ended, but they kept on, and quickly the more upbeat sounds of Fleetwood Mac filled the room. Louis picked his head up to observe the look of delight that Harry was sporting, his eyes crinkled with joy. Again, Louis couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him. It was the story of his life: a dinghy adrift in the waves, powerless to the tide that was Harry Styles.

Harry Styles, who suddenly decided to spin Louis around, turning their ballroom dance intosomething more merry. They laughed and twirled each other, leaping and bounding round the room, momentarily forgetting what a terrible dancer Louis was and how clumsy Harry was.

It, of course, culminated in a crash, and the two ended up on the floor, Louis crushed by Harry. No better way to die, he thought. Harry was illuminated from behind, laughing as though he were just as happy as Louis felt. Louis hoped he was.

‘God I love you, H.’ Harry’s eyes softened and he reached to stroke Louis’ face, pushing a strand of his hair away and setting his nerve endings alight, just as he did every time he touched Louis.

‘I love you too, Lou. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.’ Harry leaned in and claimed his lips in a kiss that took Louis’ breath away. He pulled back after a minute.

‘The rest of your life, yeah?’

Harry just grinned and pushed Louis down again for another sun-soaked kiss.


	17. Artifact #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Harry was a kid he had been early. To school, to meetings, to dinners, to flights, and to see ex-boyfriends he was still in love with. Apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song is by Conor Oberst. I like this chapter! 
> 
> Also pls do check out the Spotify playlist I (finally) made to go with this story! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5G2hP2rrZTByJn2J7AWLfA?si=PBqeut-tR8yyFrFnV9BWvA

_What would it take to gain acceptance_  
_To the grounds behind your eyes_  
_You know I'm open to suggestion_  
___The one you made we never tried_  
_You let it slip right out from under your breath_  
_And it rolled around my head_

...

LA, 2020

Ever since Harry was a kid he had been early. To school, to meetings, to dinners, to flights, and to see ex-boyfriends he was still in love with. Apparently. Right now, he was sitting in his car outside the café and definitely not freaking out. He knew Louis would be late, because Louis had never been on time to anything in his life. Fuck, Harry loved him.

Harry got out of his car, and double checked that no one was paying him any attention. He would’ve dressed to impress, but instead was weighed down with a black hoodie, baseball cap, and sunglasses. Anonymous. He ducked his head down and made a beeline for the entrance, gladly stepping out of the California sun into a veil of cool, conditioned air.

He was quickly ushered to the back, largely avoiding prying eyes and keeping his head down. To his surprise, someone was already in the booth. He froze.

‘Louis?’

The mop of brown hair turned, revealing sharp cheekbones and blue eyes.

‘Hi Harry.’ He didn’t sound too happy. Harry was still standing stock-still, their eyes locked and unblinking, drinking one another in.

‘Right. I’ll leave you to it then.’ The waitress left. Harry had forgotten she was there. He coughed, and moved to sit opposite Louis.

‘You look- ah.’ Louis looked rough, to be honest. His hair was long and unkempt, his face unshaven, and his eyes adorned by shadows. He was wearing a big hoodie just like Harry. Annoyingly, he was still drop-dead gorgeous: tanned and lean, his collarbones peeking out. ‘You look good.’

Louis snorted in response. ‘So do you, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Got the whole fuckin’ world even more convinced that you shit gold since we broke up, haven’t you.’

Harry didn’t flinch. He was used to Louis spitting venom when he was uncomfortable; a threatened viper. He barreled on.

‘How are your family?’

‘What?’ Louis looked taken aback. ‘Can we not play these fucking games? What do you want?’

‘I’m not playing games. I just want... I...’ He trailed off, not wanting to reveal himself. Not wanting to pull his heart out through his oesophagus and place it on the table, beating and bloody, for Louis to do with as he pleased.

‘I just wanted to say...’

Harry couldn’t look into Louis’ eyes, his face carefully schooled into a mask of serenity. He couldn’t tell Louis how he really felt, what he wanted deep down. Not yet. So, a part of the whole truth: ‘I just really regret what happened between us. He swallowed. ‘I want to give us an opportunity clear the air.’ He finally looked up, only to find Louis with a face like thunder.

‘Is it that fucking hard for you to be honest?’

Harry blinked.

‘I, uh-‘

‘You really are an arrogant bastard, Jesus. What, you summon me here and expect me to apologise to you?’ Harry felt taken aback.

‘That’s not what I meant. I’m just trying to be an adult.’

‘You can’t pull this diplomatic bullshit with me Harry. I  know you, remember? Just be straight with me, please.’ Louis looked almost pained. ‘This is hard enough already.’

Seeing a glimpse of Louis’ pain, Harry felt his heart break a little bit again. He sighed, body slumping.

‘Sorry. S’just. Weird, isn’t it?’ 

‘Yeah, just a little bit.’

Harry laughed, and almost detected a smile on Louis’ lips. ‘You’ve got an American accent now.’ Harry wrinkled his nose.

‘No I don’t. You just sound more Northern.’ He really did. Both their accents had softened over the course of the band, but now Louis’ Yorkshire accent was as strong as ever before, just like it had been when Harry had met him. A sense of nostalgia rocked through him at the thought.

‘Okay. Cards on the table. I can’t stop thinking about the voicemail you left me the other day. I can’t stand thinking that- that you’re having such a hard time. Because of  me .’ Louis was the one who couldn’t look at Harry now. ‘And I am sorry. Really. I love- loved you for so long, and it kills me that it ended so horribly.’

Louis didn’t say anything. So Harry kept talking.

‘I was really hurt when things ended between us, and I really felt neglected by you. I felt like you were punishing me for wanting to- to find myself, I guess? But I forgive you, now. And I just want us to be okay.’

‘You forgive me?’ Louis’ hackles were up again. Not Harry’s intention. ‘So, what, it’s all my fault? Is that really what you think?’ He let out a bitter laugh. ‘Shall I tell you what I think, Harry? I think that you got bored with me, and you wanted to run away to Hollywood. And I think you couldn’t handle breaking up with me, because you’re too obsessed with being a nice, good, person. So you let our relationship die slowly instead.’

Harry went to interject, but Louis barrelled on. 

‘And now you’ve been confronted by how much fucking pain you’ve caused me, and your fragile fucking ego can’t handle the guilt. So now I have to sit here and accept your apology so you can carry on with your life, while I go back to being miserable.’

Louis’ words were like a bucket of ice water over Harry’s head.

‘Selfish prick.’ Louis muttered. ‘You can get the bill.’

With that he walked out, leaving Harry shellshocked and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments really do encourage me!


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